


Flying High

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, tattoo artist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 06:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11202297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: Angela goes to get her first tattoo and ends up with a lot more than she bargained for.





	Flying High

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by futurewitnesslucina!

The needle between her shoulder blades hurt more than anything else.

Angela wasn't surprised, considering the preponderance of nerves there, but the sting was damnably insistent, even though the buzz of the tattoo gun was little more than white noise at this point. She closed her eyes and tried to center herself on the pain, to see past it and to the image that was being outlined in her skin, one she had ached for years to have. Today, every feather of the wings was coming to life under a skilled hand, and she never felt so grateful.

It helped that Fareeha had been the most engaging artist Angela met in her search for the perfect studio, happy to show off a portfolio that ranged from highly realistic portraits to authentic Egyptian hieroglyphic pieces, and answering every question she asked in detail. Fareeha's devotion to her work couldn't be in question; she was inked from head to toe with an impressive collection of tattoos, although the Horus design around her eye was particularly striking. 

Angela had been surprised at the First Nations flag etched on the inside of one wrist until she spied a picture near Fareeha's workstation where she stood with an older man a few inches shorter, sharing a smile that could only make them father and daughter; the same flag was draped behind them, hung for some sort of celebration. Perhaps that was a lot of attention to pay to a woman she had just met, but Angela was endlessly fascinated by the human body, what the details of each person had to say.

Two latex-clad fingers tapped against the small of her back, snapping Angela out of her curious train of thought. "You've been laying down for a couple of hours. Let's give you and my hand a break."

"Alright." She started to sit up, clutching the wrinkled fabric of her tank top close to her chest so she didn't accidentally flash the room. They were locked in a little space that guaranteed privacy from the rest of the studio, but it only seemed polite. "Ah, that aches."

"Don't press your back against the wall or you'll regret it." Fareeha stripped off her black gloves and tossed them in the trash, donning another pair with an efficiency Angela could appreciate. Then the artist disregarded her own advice, crossing her arms and leaning against the closed door. "Now that we've got a minute, you want to tell me what this piece is about? Pretty big for your first one."

She was momentarily distracted by the flex of one spectacular bicep, watching the ripple of movement extend down Fareeha's forearm before registering the question. "Oh. I just received a promotion to head of surgery."

One dark brow rose. "You're a doctor?"

"For quite some time now." Angela smiled. "I've always wanted something to commemorate the work I put into medical school, my fellowship, traveling around the world...but there wasn't really a spare moment until they gave me a desk."

"Angel of mercy, huh?" Dark brown eyes twinkled with amusement. "Seems fitting. I promise the wings will look perfect."

That was a high bar to set, but Angela believed it. All of Fareeha's words held a particular confidence, born from both experience and skill; it was the same way she heard her own voice change whenever a crisis came in. "Have you been tattooing your whole life?"

"No, not quite." She gestured to a golden wreath of maple leaves encircling a crown on one shoulder, the word  _ ubique _ inked in a blue banner underneath. Angela knew the Latin; it meant 'everywhere'. "I spent a few years in the engineering corps."

"Didn't want to go career?" Twenty years was a long time, but Angela had met quite a few military physicians who enjoyed their service -- not to mention the benefits that came after.

"It was tempting." Fareeha admitted with a shrug. "I excelled at my work, but honestly I signed on to piss my mother off, which isn't a real good reason for anything. Next time my contract was up, I decided to go into something I was really passionate about."

Angela took a long look around the room where dozens of pictures and sketches were pinned, a gallery of beautiful artwork all rendered by Fareeha's hand. "Well, you certainly succeeded at that."

A broad grin curved the taller woman's lips. "Thank you. Let's get you back under the needle, yeah?"

She moved to lay down on the padded table again, taking a quiet but sincere amount of pleasure in Fareeha's hands molding her back into the proper position. Plastic clicked as Fareeha changed out her ink, the wrinkle of saran wrap meeting Angela's ears before a cool, damp cloth pressed against her back, the sudden shift in temperature startling a yelp out of her throat. When she heard a soft chuckle, heat rushed up to Angela's face.

"Sorry." Fareeha didn't sound particularly sorry, but Angela couldn't find it in herself to be offended. "I've got to make sure everything's cleaned up before we get down to business again."

There was a dull pain behind Fareeha wiping her back clean of blood and detritus, the distinct chemical scent reminding her of a thousand hospital rooms, but then the tattoo gun started to buzz and Angela fell back into that noise. Now that Fareeha was working on the left side of her back, it didn't hurt anywhere near as much, so she was content to drift and enjoy those hands every time they brushed across her skin.

Angela bit her lip. It was probably pathetic, getting such a charge out of an attractive woman touching her in a wholly professional manner, but she hadn't had a girlfriend -- or even a casual partner -- in quite some time. Her schedule usually meant fourteen hour shifts with little or no warning, much less any respect for holidays, and there were only so many dates or hook-ups that could be missed before someone decided to go elsewhere. She understood that logically, but the truth did little to lessen her own need for intimacy.

"So what kind of surgery do you specialize in?" Fareeha asked, the question coming as a surprise. During the first stretch, she stayed almost completely silent, and Angela hadn't wanted to accidentally break her concentration.

"Trauma and triage, primarily." Angela answered, the words a bit muffled from the way her cheek was pressed down against the table. 

There was a pause in the buzzing as Fareeha dipped her needle into fresh ink. "Well, damn. I thought it might be something I could make an appointment for."

Angela blinked, trying to figure out why the artist would want an excuse to see her. It only made sense that she was flirting, but the idea caught Angela so off-guard that she lost track of her own words, glad her bluster was hidden by a curtain of blonde hair. After the comment Fareeha fell quiet again, wholly devoted to her work, and Angela let the world around her blur into a distant haze until there was another tap just above her waistband.

"You're done." Joy suddenly took flight in Angela's chest; she was excited to see the results. "Let me clean everything up." 

It took a minute, but once Angela was allowed to stand, she went right to the mirror attached to the wall, glancing back over her own shoulder. Her jaw dropped at the rich black lines now curving across her back, every feather so detailed it looked like she could pluck them right from her skin. The wings tapered down into gentle points near her waist; they were resplendent and large, yet still easily covered with a t-shirt. Hungry as she had been to have this done, Angela knew that some hospitals frowned on heavily tattooed practitioners, but she was content with the compromise.

"It's gorgeous." Years of work, now emblazoned on her flesh for good. Angela felt herself start to tear up, then swallowed past it. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." Fareeha snagged a can of Vaseline from a drawer and a long sheet of cling film. "Now turn around so I can wrap you up."

She tried to ignore the sting as Fareeha carefully smoothed out the clear material over her back, using a few pieces of tape to ensure it didn't fall down from the curve of her shoulders. It looked slightly ridiculous in the mirror, but not as ridiculous as Angela felt when she let her tank top fall away from her breasts, raising her arms only a few inches before wincing.

"Um, could you help me put this back on?" She asked, gesturing with her top to get the meaning across.

"Of course." With Fareeha's assistance, her wrists slipped through the holes of the tank top, its material slowly stretched up over her head before it was pulled back down, loose enough that thankfully it didn't press too much against her skin. "I'll send home some aftercare instructions with your receipt, okay?"

"Thanks." Angela knew the process in theory, how the body was essentially healing from an injury, but she respected Fareeha's expertise too much to refuse.

She counted out cash at the register for the front desk girl, who seemed more engaged in her handheld video game than the computer right next to her, but made sure to leave a sizable tip for Fareeha nonetheless. Stealing a glance out the shop window revealed that it was almost sunset; she had come in with the first morning slot available, which explained the low rumble in her stomach. A receipt was folded into her hands, as well as the instructions and a business card.

"The number on the front is for the shop." Fareeha said, and honest-to-God winked. "Thank you for coming in, Angela."

It wasn't until she was down the block getting something to eat that the implication sank in. Angela examined the business card while shoveling a gyro into her mouth, then flipped it over and saw the phone number scratched onto the bottom in pen. It wasn't the same as the shop number, or even an extension, and she felt her heart do a giddy little flip.

\--

"I was thinking of getting another piece." Angela said into the phone while lounging across the length of her couch. "But I was wondering if you do in-house consultations."

"In-house, huh?" Behind Fareeha's voice, she could hear the buzz and chatter of the shop, but apparently she had caught the other woman on a lunch break. "Not usually, but I could make an exception. Should I bring my sketchbook?"

Angela feared appearing too eager if she said no. "Of course."

They agreed on a time later that evening, and she promptly went on a cleaning frenzy throughout her entire apartment, cursing her propensity for late-night takeout when she had to fill an entire garbage bag with boxes and haul it away. Thankfully that was the primary sign that her place was even lived in; she didn't spend enough time here for much leisure. She had just finished up and gotten something to drink when there was a knock on the door.

Settling her nerves with a deep breath, Angela set her water aside and went to open it. Fareeha took up most of the doorway, shoulders reaching from edge to edge, and she was wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed off sculpted arms, the tattoo shop's logo emblazoned on the front, and inked calves exposed beneath the hem of loose black basketball shorts. 

Angela absently cursed the sudden dryness in her throat, trying to form the words to hide it. "Hey. Thanks for coming over."

"You tip well." Fareeha said, smile warm and teasing before she stepped past the threshold. "Is your back healed up?"

Anxious or not, that was the opportunity she'd been looking for. "I thought I could show you, actually."

For a moment they locked eyes, and Angela felt the temperature in the room rise a few degrees, wrought with a sudden tension. Then Fareeha took a step forward to break it, pressing just on the boundaries of her personal space. "Sure. Why don't you?"

There was a mirror in the bedroom, but she didn't want to presume that much, so Angela turned away from her and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra -- just like that day -- so the full extent of the tattoo was exposed, now healed to hundreds of crisp dark lines. It was Fareeha's work, but part of her felt proud at how well she had taken care of the ink, not wanting to lose a single drop of it.

"Can I touch it?" Fareeha asked from behind, and even with the distance between their bodies, Angela could feel her warm presence, so close but not making contact.

So she took the next leap. "Yes."

Lightly calloused fingers started at the base of her spine and traced upward, centimeter by centimeter, and it was impossible not to shiver when Fareeha finally reached the nape of her neck. The caress was so gentle, but Angela thought some part of her might shatter when Fareeha's palm spread outward across one wing, framing where it flourished across that shoulder blade.

"You should add some color. White accents, maybe." While the words were still professional, the heat in Fareeha's voice was anything but. "I think you'd take well to it."

"Oh?" That was something she had considered, but wanted to see what the wings alone would look like first. "I was actually thinking about getting a second piece."

"Where?" Fareeha asked.

Angela reached back to capture one of Fareeha's hands, drawing it down around her stomach and then lower, right against the inside of one thigh. "Here."

"Do you have a design already?" Fareeha's thumb traced a circle through her jeans, hard enough to be felt. "Or did you want me to come up with one?"

"I have a few ideas," Angela admitted breathlessly as the other woman pressed flush against her back, "but maybe you can give me suggestions."

"Sure. There's just one thing." Breath tickled the back of her ear before Fareeha whispered, "I like to see my canvas first."

There wasn't even a second's hesitation before Angela tugged Fareeha's hand to the button of her jeans, which was undone with the same haste as the zipper after it. She hadn't had many choices of fancy underwear to choose from on such short notice, but Fareeha seemed to appreciate the white lace panties with a soft groan of acknowledgment, tugging her pants down and out of the way. 

Struck with the sudden urge to see Fareeha's face, Angela put a pause on those wandering hands once she stepped out of her jeans to get them closer to the couch. She sunk down with her back to the cushions, now able to focus on dark brown eyes while they swept over her body, warm with desire. Her fingers cupped the taller woman's cheek and brought Fareeha in for a kiss, one that started tentative but deepened with every passing second until they were quietly gasping against each other's mouths.

"I wanted you the moment I walked into the shop." Angela murmured, fingers shifting to catch the straps of Fareeha's top and pulling at them. "So this is kind of surreal."

"Would it help to know I felt the same way?" Fareeha answered with a smile, raising her arms to help Angela strip her before settling back down on both knees. "I just hope I didn't overstep my bounds while I was working on you."

Angela shook her head. "No. Not at all."

"Glad to hear it." After pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, Fareeha lay another at the corner of Angela's jaw, writing a warm path further down her throat. "Because I'd really like to overstep them now."

That made Angela laugh, but she was more than happy when Fareeha's mouth encircled one of her breasts and sucked, hands framing her ribs in a slow caress downward. Her fingers found purchase in dark hair, brushing against one of the golden ornaments hanging in it as Fareeha stroked and kissed her way down between pale knees, spreading them open in a deliberate movement that made Angela moan. A tug of encouragement bade her to raise her hips so Fareeha could catch the band of her underwear and pull them down, the lace stretching across her thighs until it was finally out of the way.

"Am I going too fast for you?" Fareeha asked, hands settled on the top of her legs, present but not pursuing further.

"No!" Angela blushed after blurting the answer out so quickly, but thankfully Fareeha took that as a signal to continue, smiling and kissing right over the hollow of her hip.

Skipping right over where she ached the most, Fareeha devoted her attention to the inside of Angela's thighs, grazing her teeth over sensitive skin until Angela twitched her hips forward, trying not to whimper. "Fareeha--"

"This is where you want me, isn't it?" She whispered, tongue drawing a hot line down to the curve of her knee. "Figuring out how I'm going to mark you next."

The wording flustered Angela so badly that her only response was a moan, one that became louder when Fareeha kissed from thigh to thigh, going higher and higher before a hand hooked under Angela's calf and pulled up. She felt the angle of her hips shift on the couch as that leg was draped over Fareeha's shoulder, spreading her even wider to the other woman's attentions. When a tattooed cheek nuzzled against blonde curls, Angela gasped, trying more than anything not to grind up into the feeling.

Then Fareeha brought her other leg over the opposite shoulder, and Angela had to do her best not to crush that beautiful face between her thighs as a warm tongue started to lap at her folds, seeking out the slickness there. She arched back against the couch, keeping a hold in black locks while Fareeha leisurely explored her, content to tease and taste before finally opening her up. Angela moaned even louder when the bridge of Fareeha's nose bumped against her clit, tongue sweeping along her entrance to the top and back again.

"Please." It had been so long that Angela didn't feel the least bit of shame in begging, chasing every bit of pleasure Fareeha provided until she was trembling, bucking up against full lips right before they wrapped around her clit and sucked.

Now she was floating, feet dangling absently in the air behind Fareeha's back, hips tilted up so the other woman had full access, and the sensation was nothing short of mind-blowing by the time Fareeha made her come, orgasm washing over her in one long, blissful wave. Gasping and adrift, Angela wasn't anchored back to her skin until Fareeha kissed her a moment later, mouth wet, warm, and insistent. She returned it with vigor, hand sliding back to a tattooed nape to hold her close.

"That felt amazing." Angela murmured against Fareeha's lips, a touch embarrassed at how quickly she had come, but too grateful in the afterglow to focus on it.

A smile came in answer. "I was about to say the same thing."

"Then we need to get you out of these clothes so I can return the favor." She went for Fareeha's sports bra first, untangling the other woman from the stretchy fabric before tossing it aside. "Unless you want to move to the bed."

"That seems really far away." Fareeha replied, tugging down her athletic shorts and underwear in one go. It was thoroughly distracting, Angela's eyes sweeping over the dark thatch of hair there, the ink and definition that extended all the way down Fareeha's thighs. "Just let me get on my back."

Angela abandoned her navel-gazing to change her position on the couch, letting Fareeha lay down and prop her head against the arm of it before moving between subtly parted legs. She leaned down for another kiss, nipping playfully at Fareeha's lower lip while her hands cupped full breasts, swallowing the moan she provoked in response. There was some impatience in her touch, the urge to learn every inch of bronze skin, to decipher the tattoos covering so much of it, but Angela centered most of her focus on bringing Fareeha pleasure.

When her fingers found dripping folds, it was clear she'd succeeded, slipping a finger inside at Fareeha's urging. Between each thrust she offered another kiss or caress, adding a second finger when her rhythm started to become sloppy and quick. Angela's teeth left faint marks on each collarbone as she curled her fingers, pressing up until Fareeha moaned and thrashed, hips snapping forward, and she took that as a prompt to align her thumb with the other woman's clit, rubbing along the top of the hood there.

"One more." Fareeha gasped, her hand sliding down Angela's back and caressing the length of the wings there. "One more and I'll come."

It took a second for her to make sense of the words, but the moment she did, Angela eased a third finger inside, and Fareeha immediately clenched tight around all of them. She rode out her release with ragged breaths, pulling Angela against her in a powerful embrace until the height of it was over, tapering down with little aftershocks each time another slower thrust worked its way inside her. For a moment, Angela's arm was trapped between their bodies, but she didn't really mind, not when they fit so well together.

A comfortable silence fell over the room as the two of them recovered, Angela resting her head over Fareeha's heart while the tangles in her hair were gently stroked back into some semblance of order. 

It broke when fingers tilted Angela's chin up, bringing them eye to eye. "Did you really want to get a second tattoo?"

The honest curiosity made her laugh, but she nodded just the same. "I did, actually. My experience with the first one was wonderful."

"You've got the bug." Fareeha smiled wide. "Once you get one, it's so hard to stop."

There were plenty of theories out there to explain such a phenomenon; some researchers pointed to the endorphin overload as the body tried to blot out the pain of the needle, making it a overall pleasant experience that someone might long to recreate, while those trained in psychology thought exerting such control over one's body -- affixing something new and permanent -- could be particularly validating. Angela wasn't sure if either or both were correct, but she was confident in her decision to pursue another nonetheless.

"If you wanted to wash up, I could make dinner after." It was hard to know the protocol for this; while Fareeha coming over certainly wasn't a date, she didn't want to kick her out like a bar hookup. "Or order in, if you like."

"We did work up an appetite, huh?" Fareeha stretched, and the ripple of muscle underneath her made Angela a little shaky all over again. "I'm okay with that, if you'll agree to one thing."

"What's that?" Angela asked.

Fareeha feigned a few seconds of deep contemplation before answering with a grin. "We shower together."

Angela agreed to that without hesitation, although it took her a while longer than the other woman to dry her hair. By the time she stepped out of the stall and put on some less rumpled clothes, Fareeha was sitting at the table in her breakfast nook, sketchbook open and pencil out. When she came around to look at what was being drawn, Angela saw a familiar symbol in the center, the words  _ primum nil nocere  _ illustrated in a banner underneath it.

"Is that for me?" While she had mentioned a few ideas in the shower, Angela hadn't expected Fareeha to compose a design so quickly.

"It could be." After rubbing the side of her pencil on the inside of a few lines to imitate the shading, Fareeha flipped the cover of the sketchbook back and handed it to Angela to look at. "What do you think?"

Angela glanced at the page and then down at her own legs, imagining the ink overlaid on her thigh. When she smiled, Fareeha looked relieved. "I think I need to make another appointment with you."

They could figure out everything else after that.

\--


End file.
